


Dorm Stories

by houseofabrasax



Series: The Queen's Harem [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Collars, F/M, Femdom, Gags, Harems, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Master/Slave, Punishment, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houseofabrasax/pseuds/houseofabrasax
Summary: I have literally no idea how to tag this, lol. This first chapter got expanded from a scene I cut from Training a New One, and I have some other ideas for things to write about the boys interacting among themselves so I'll park them here. Probably won't get smutty but who knows.
Series: The Queen's Harem [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653607
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. Golden Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Five, Six, Seven, & Eight

“Read it and weep, fellas!”

There was a loud _thud_ on the table next to all of them. Eight was sitting with Five and Seven in the dining hall, and Six had appeared and triumphantly slammed down a plate of food – good food, _real_ food.

“Look at that, you did something right for once.” Five hadn’t looked up from his bowl. Eight took a sad look at his own porridge. It’s not that he wasn’t grateful, of _course_ he was grateful to have it, but it had not been so long ago that he was eating with their Mistress nearly every night. He remembered how heavenly it tasted, how good it had felt to know he’d earned it. He took another bite of porridge.

“Aww, don’t be jealous. You know I’d give you a bite if I could.” Six spoke through a mouthful of potatoes.

He really doubted Five was actually jealous, but that didn’t matter much; Six wanted to rub it in. Eight raised an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t you, then?”

They all three looked at him in various shades of incredulity. “Are you kidding?” said Six.

Seven took pity on him, as usual. The others forgot pretty often how new he was. “He’d get in a load of trouble for giving it away; _we_ didn’t earn that meal. What would be the point of the reward if everyone got some?”

 _Of course, duh._ He was irritated he hadn’t pieced that together.

“Besides,” Seven went on, “he’s good enough at getting into trouble other ways.”

“Sorry, which of us is currently enjoying proof of his excellent service?”

Five burst out laughing and looked up for the first time. “One good day doesn’t mean you’re not a fuckup.”

“Lucky for me, your opinion doesn’t mean shit.” Six was still smug – he was always smug, even when it cost him.

Seven had grown visibly uneasy. “Come on, Five, he’s right, we shouldn’t be doubting –”

Five turned on him. “The only one I’m doubting is him. He’s still raw from his last lashing.”

“Like you’ve never been to the pole.”

“You practically have a second home on the pole.”

Eight watched them closely as they yelled back and forth, porridge forgotten. He’d never been to the pole, and he was keen to figure out why the others had so he could avoid it. The thought made the hairs on his neck prickle.

“Guys, come on, it’s not a contest.” Seven again.

“Ha!” Six smiled wryly, shoving another forkful in his mouth. “’dya hear that? Golden Boy doesn’t think it’s a contest.” For a moment he and Five were on the same side; the latter laughed darkly. “Have you ever even been zapped?”

Seven’s face turned into a small frown. “Obviously. I get punished the same as anyone else when I disobey. Maybe it just happens less because some of us _know our place_.”

Eight wasn’t sure if they were going to break into a full-on fight. They’d probably get punished for that, too, and he knew that the uniforms wouldn’t care that he hadn’t really been involved.

But Six wasn’t mad. He shrugged, grinning. “No risk, no reward.”

Seven’s anger faded; Eight knew he wanted to avoid conflict if he could. And they all knew that Five would have no problem kicking the shit out of any of them. “You’re gonna get thrown out one day, and I won’t be able to save you.”

Six shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sev. I know what I’m doing. I push it too far sometimes, sure, but the way I see it it’s a win-win.”

“How the fuck do you figure that?” said Five.

“Simple. Either it goes really well,” he gestured to his now mostly-empty plate. “…or I get the pole and I know better for next time. Plus—” his face turned up in a mischievous smile. He took one last heaping bite, probably just to prolong the moment. Finally, he swallowed and said, “Mistress loves scars.”

He swung his legs over the bench and sauntered off.

Five rolled his eyes. “God, he’s dramatic.”

Seven turned to Eight again. “He’s not half as unflappable as he makes out. I was with him after his last lashing, he cried for days.”

“Some days I’m not sure why Mistress puts up with him,” Five muttered into the table.

Seven turned to glare. “Knock it off. That kind of talk is dangerously close to insolence.”

Five held his gaze for a second, then looked away. He knew Seven was right.

Eight cleared his throat; he knew the answer to this one. “He pretends he doesn’t care if he makes a mistake, but he’s desperate to please.”

“Oh, please!” said Five. “You heard him a second ago, it’s all a ‘win-win’ for him.”

He shrugged. “It’s an act. He probably gets the _most_ upset when he’s displeased her out of all of us.” _Well,_ he thought, _besides me. I should know better_.

Five was still looking at him incredulously, but Seven chimed in. “I think he’s right, you know. He doesn’t cry after he goes to the pole because of the pain.”

“He puts on the attitude because Mistress likes it. He’s bold, and that makes him unpredictable, which makes him interesting. But she wouldn’t keep him unless she knew he was totally devoted.”

Five grunted. “And I suppose you think she likes _you_ because you’re so clever.”

Eight looked down at his lap. The answer was yes – she had practically told him as much – but no way he was going to say that to Five. There was a silent minute.

“Well, whatever,” said Five, his tone back to its usual flat cadence. “I still think he’s a fuckup.”

Eight wasn’t sure whether he should say anything, but he wanted Five to like him. _Needed_ , really. It would be dangerous if he didn’t.

“I saw him get thrown out, once,” he said.

They both looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“When I was sleeping outside the door. She physically threw him out the door, onto his ass.”

Seven stared at him for a moment, then he burst into laughter.

Five was grinning. “I fucking told you.”

“He told us he’d gotten bruised because they were being _rough_.” Seven could barely get the words out between laughs. “Okay, he’s a bit of a fuckup.”

Eight smiled into his bowl. 


	2. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight learns some more about some of the other boys, and discovers that Two and Three aren't exactly what he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people were asking me about the boys who didn't show up before, so if you're interested in that here's some more about them. Except Four. He'll show up someday.  
> Featuring: Two, Three, Five, Six, Seven & Eight

_Oh, fuck._

He shouldn’t have pissed off the uniforms, he knew that. He knew they weren’t shy about beating him even when they hadn’t been told.

“Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it —“

The guard yanked Eight closer by his collar. “Shut up. I’m the one with the keys to the doors, which means I’m the one who can lock you outside for a few days if you get mouthy.”

He swallowed, which had become very difficult with his collar digging into him. “It won’t happen again, there’s no need—“

The guard grunted. “That’s exactly the problem. _You_ don’t tell _me_ what to do.”

Eight shut his eyes. He knew they didn’t have the power to zap him, but they could get creative when they wanted to.

“Leave the kid alone.” A voice came from behind the guards threatening him. He opened his eyes and saw a severe-looking man; older than him, and rough around the edges.

The second guard said, “What’s it to you?”

The man was stony-faced. “Nothing, really. I just don’t think you want to have to explain that you damaged one of Her Majesty’s favorites because he hurt your feelings.”

The guard gripped tighter on Eight’s collar, and for a second he thought it was going to get worse. But then he released, leaving Eight to fall to the ground, and the two of them walked away. The first one went scowling.

The older man held out a hand, and Eight took it. He’d seen him around before, but they’d never been introduced. He knew he was one of them — he was here, after all, and he had a collar — but Eight didn’t know anything else.

“Thank you,” he said. He rubbed the back of his neck where the collar had dug in.

“You should know better than to insult them,” His voice was harsh and scolding. “They love to push us around, it makes them feel important.”

“I do know better, usually. But he was…” He got very quiet; it sounded stupid to say aloud. “He was being disrespectful.”

The other man grunted. “Worry about yourself, boy. Let the uniforms take out their own trash.”

Eight couldn’t quite read his face, which made him uneasy. But he was grateful not to be locked in the Yard, anyway.

“Who are you?” He certainly didn’t look like the rest of them. He wasn’t young and pretty — he had scars that weren’t from lashing, a rugged face. He looked like a soldier.

“Two.”

“ _You’re_ Two?”

“I get that reaction a lot.”

Eight looked away, embarrassed. His eyes settled on the spot the guards had gone. “How…why did they listen to you?”

“Because they know what’s good for them.” His tone was completely flat.

Eight kept silent for a moment. It bothered him that couldn’t get a read on this one; he’d figured out the others easily. And he didn’t even understand why Two was one of them. But he didn’t seem interested in having a chat about himself.

Still…Eight had to try.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Maybe.”

It wasn’t exactly encouraging, but he went for it anyway. “Now that I’ve met you, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen everyone, but…what about One?”

Two looked at him darkly, and Eight shrank back on instinct. “There is no One. Don’t let me hear you mention it again.”

He turned on his heel and left, just like that.

\--

“Why didn’t you ever introduce me to Two?”

They were in the Yard training, but he couldn’t focus. Seven glanced over and spoke between push-ups. “Two’s different. He leaves us alone, we leave him alone.”

“I talked to him today.”

Seven stopped moving this time and sat back. “He talked to you?”

Eight nodded. “Not much, but he did. He’s kind of…rough.”

“That’s an understatement.” Seven flushed slightly, like he’d said something inappropriate. “I mean…Two’s different. Don’t worry about it.” He went back to his push-ups, looking uncomfortable.

Eight forgot sometimes that Seven wasn’t curious about anything. He was the one who just did what he was told, no matter what. Eight almost envied him; it seemed easier.

But he needed the opposite of uncurious obedience. So he went to find Six.

He found him lying on his bunk, eyes closed and looking relaxed.

“Hey, tell me something.”

“I’m resting.”

“You’re supposed to be training.”

Six opened one eye, looking annoyed. Eight took it as an invitation.

“What’s up with Two?”

Six sat up, looking attentive all of a sudden. “You talked to Mr. Sunshine?”

“He was definitely intense.”

“Ha! Five is intense. Two is practically part-ogre. Don’t fuck with him, he’ll eat you alive.”

Eight rubbed his neck. “He was nice to me, actually. Chased off the uniforms.”

Six looked serious for a second, which he almost never did. “I’m not kidding, man. Anybody who gets on Two’s bad side is banished, executed, or at the very _least_ whipped within an inch of their life. Stay away from him.”

Eight frowned deeper. “That doesn’t make any sense. He’s just one of us.”

“Well, maybe not.” Six looked around. “Okay, do _not_ repeat this.”

Eight leaned closer.

“But I may have accidentally overheard some stuff he said, and some stuff some uniforms said, and one or two things that Three said…” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’m pretty sure he killed One.”

Eight almost laughed. And to think he’d expected Six would have anything useful to say. “That’s insane. He’d never get away with that.”

“That’s the thing, though. He didn’t have to get away with it, because he was _supposed_ to do it.”

Eight stood up. “Your eavesdropping needs work.”

“Hey man, you asked me. That’s what I know.” Six lay down and went back to doing nothing, and Eight left him.

—

Eight paid more attention to Two after that. He was summoned upstairs less often than the rest of them, but when he was, he was gone for longer. Sometimes days.

Other than that, his trips weren’t remarkable. He came and went just like they did, escorted in and escorted out. He never talked about it, but he never talked to them about anything.

He seemed to have more of a relationship with Three — Eight guessed it was because they’d been around each other for longer — but that didn’t help any. Eight had never spoken to Three. Besides, he was almost as broad as Five and half again as tall. He looked like a statue, and said about as much. Eight was more scared of him than the guards, if he were telling the truth.

His wondering was interrupted when he was summoned upstairs, startled when the guards called for him.

 _I shouldn’t be thinking about this anyway,_ he thought. _It doesn’t matter why Two is different._

He followed the guards upstairs, hoping the butterflies in his stomach would distract him and he wouldn’t have to think about Two anymore.

—

She was in a good mood today. She had the look in her eye that meant victory; he knew it well. And she even let him stay with her for a while, so he was still in her bed, close enough to feel the warmth of her body.

It was wonderful, and rare, but still he was staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about Two again.

“Quiet your mind. I can hear it whirring.”

His chest felt tight. “Forgive me, Mistress.”

She was dozing beside him, eyes still closed. He couldn’t focus on that, either, though: she was going to send him away any minute and he didn’t need to make it harder on himself.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, since it seems beyond you to stop.”

He grimaced. “I’ll stop, my focus is here, really — “

“Don’t lie to me.” She was not angry, not yet anyway. Best to keep it that way.

“I…I had been wondering…” he licked his lips. “About Two.”

Now, she opened her eyes. Her expression was thoughtful, probing. Eight felt like she was reading his mind.

Then her brow unfurrowed, and she said, “Two doesn’t concern you.”

He looked away. “Yes, Mistress.”

He could feel her gaze still on him. “There’s something else. What is it?”

 _Nothing, forget I spoke at all,_ he wanted to say. But she would know he was lying. “I also wondered…what happened to One.”

He didn’t dare look at her, but he could feel the shift in her mood. He had crossed a line.

Her voice turned cold. “There is no One. There was never a One.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Where have you been hearing this?”

 _Oh, fuck. “_ N-nowhere, Mistress, I only assumed there had to be a One because of Two and Three and—“

“What part of _don’t lie to me_ is so incredibly hard to understand?”

“I—“ His words were cut off by a jerk at his throat. While he was looking down, she had risen in the bed, and now she was pulling his collar toward her. Their faces were so close it was difficult to avert his eyes.

“No more words. You don’t seem able to use them for anything but overstepping.”

He wanted to say he was sorry, to beg, to promise he’d never even _think_ about it again, but he didn’t know how without speaking. Instead he stayed silent and tried not to shed any tears.

“Wait there.”

She released his collar, and he heard her move across the room. _She was in a good mood. How did you fuck that up?_ He was tense, waiting. Why didn’t she just zap him, already?

Then she returned and he could see something out of the corner of his eye, and he understood. She wasn’t going to zap him; she had something else in mind.

—

“What the fuck did you _do?”_ Five asked, staring at him open-mouthed. Seven looked deeply concerned, and Six was doing a poor job stifling his laughter.

His Mistress had made sure he would stay quiet – he’d been gagged. It was a constrictive half-mask over the lower portion of his face, circling his head and neck. He could breathe, but couldn’t open his jaw or say anything intelligible. It was too tight to remove and the only closure was locked, so he was stuck that way until she decided to free him.

And he couldn’t exactly hide it from the rest of them.

“I think --” Six interrupted himself with laughter. He tried again. “I think he’s gonna have trouble answering that right now.”

Eight gave him a sharp look, but it wasn’t Six’s fault he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

“At least it’s not the pole, right?” Seven was trying to sound reassuring, but Eight didn’t want to hear it. It wouldn’t matter if he got a lashing instead, he’d still feel just as stupid.

They were about to have dinner when he got back, and Eight realized suddenly that he wouldn’t be able to eat. His stomach growled as he thought it, as if in answer. He turned to head for his bunk and try to fall asleep, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t go well.

\--

The next day was torture. Not being able to talk was one thing, but the hunger was worse. _Come on, you’ve endured hunger before_. But it wasn’t that he didn’t have permission to eat, or that he hadn’t earned any food. He physically couldn’t. It was entirely different, and worse.

Eight was staring longingly at the others’ porridge at dinner, and they looked on with pity. Even Six had gotten tired of making fun of him.

Seven glanced at him. “It has to be almost over, right?”

Eight shook his head. He knew better.

“You don’t think? I mean, how long would Mistress leave you without food?”

Five said, “My record is 3 days, but I think Four has had more.”

Six thought for a moment, then said, “I’ve only ever had 3.”

Eight held up five fingers. They all grimaced, looking at him with even more pity. He could hardly stand it. Not like he had enough pride left to make the pity bother him, but they knew what he knew: he deserved it.

The others got up when they finished eating, but Eight didn’t have the energy to move. He sat with his head in his hands. At least the more exhausted he got, the more time he could spend unconscious.

He didn’t notice Six had lingered behind.

“Hey, E.”

Eight looked up at him coldly.

“You must have said something pretty bad, right? Well, I’m thinking that I’ve said all kinds of things I shouldn’t’ve said, and I just go to the pole when that happens. Five thinks it’s just because you’re new so you still get special treatment, but –”

Eight made a loud, frustrated noise into his gag.

Six laughed. “Sorry. Point is: I think you must’ve said something about One.”

He shook his head, hard. _No, no, no_.

“I told you not to tell anyone, but you must have, and I want to know what you learned the second you can speak again.”

Eight shook his head more frantically. _Leave it the fuck alone!_ He wanted to scream it, so he settled for muffled shouting.

“Don’t act like you didn’t learn something. You can’t hold out on me.”

God, Six could be such an idiot. Even if he would dare talk about it again, which he wouldn’t, it’s not like he had anything to _share_. Just that Two and their Mistress both seemed very eager not to discuss it.

“Okay, just shake your head yes or no. Was I right about Two?”

Eight couldn’t shake his head any harder, so he just got up from the table and made to leave. Before he got very far he noticed someone standing behind him, and his heartbeat doubled. If it was Two, he was dead for sure.

Instead, he looked up to see Three. Fuck, he was tall. Eight couldn’t read his face, but Three’s stature was enough to make him want to be far away from here.

“You’re not having an ill-advised conversation out here, are you? Because that would be very stupid for someone who’s currently being punished for speaking about what he shouldn’t.”

His voice was deep but surprisingly gentle; it didn’t match his imposing figure. This was the most Eight had ever heard him speak at once.

Eight shook his head — he was going to make himself dizzy with all this head shaking — but Six didn’t seem frightened in the least. “What are you listening for, anyway?”

Three looked amused. “You young ones are so bratty.”

Six looked like he was about to get riled up, and Eight wondered why the fuck fights kept breaking out around him.

Three’s expression didn’t change. “You don’t want to fight me, kid.” He was so calm, almost cheerful — nothing like Eight would expect just looking at him. Three seemed thoughtful for a second, looking down at both of them. “Okay, here’s the deal. I don’t like this business at all. Two is a nightmare when he’s grumpy, and I can’t have you—“ he looked directly at Eight “making Her Majesty angry again with your prying.”

 _You think I haven’t learned that?_ Eight wanted to snap, but of course he couldn’t.

“So if I tell you what happened back then, will you promise to shut up about it for good?”

Six nodded immediately; he looked like a child offered candy. Eight just wanted to go to bed — he wasn’t _supposed_ to be curious, she had specifically told him it wasn’t his concern. He was _supposed_ to forget about it forever and go back to being good.

But he wanted Six to leave it alone. And as desperately as he willed his mind to obey, he was so fucking curious. He nodded.

“Great. Follow me.”

Three walked off without waiting for them to get up, toward the back of the dining hall. He pushed open the door to the Yard, and they followed him into the hot night air.

“You can’t hear out here from the bunks. Just to be safe,” Three said, sliding down the wall to sit in the ground. Six and Eight sat in front of him, expectant, and Eight felt like he was a child hearing a bedtime story.

“First things first, you tell anyone I told you this, I’ll deny it. And they’ll believe me. And Two will probably kill you.” Despite threatening them, his voice was still jovial. Eight knew he was right, too — it would sound insane to say Three had sat them down and told then the whole story. Three never said anything. “Got that?”

They nodded.

“Good. When I was younger, there wasn’t any of this.” He gestured to the Yard and vaguely toward the dorms.

“The palace?” asked Six.

“No. Don’t be stupid. I mean us. Her Majesty didn’t have bed slaves.”

This was a real shock to Six, it seemed. “What?” said Six. “But…how?”

“Stop interrupting me. Two — well, his name was different then — doesn’t matter. Two and I were ordinary palace slaves. Except luckier than most, because even then Her Majesty liked to keep the more attractive ones close.”

Eight frowned.

“I know what you’re thinking, but Two was considered very handsome, once. Everyone thought so.

“Anyway, we had a certain amount of her trust, he and I. Had to. One time she even let me — doesn’t matter.

“Then this foreigner shows up. Someone important from somewhere nearby, I don’t remember. And he was, well. He was something. He was prettier than any man I’ve seen: he had this angular jawline, and a smile that could knock you out. And charming, too. Made even the slaves feel like something.

“So she was taken with him, too, of course. How could she not be. And some way some how, without any of us really noticing, he became her paramour, and they were together all the time. Everyone was smitten.

“But not Two. He’s always been…he doesn’t warm up easy.”

“Wait, are you telling me he warms up at some point?” said Six sarcastically.

Three shot him a look and kept talking. “He doesn’t like people much, and he doesn’t trust hardly anyone. I think he likes me because I don’t say a lot.

“So he was obedient, sure, never said a thing against him, but the man could tell Two wasn’t charmed by him. He didn’t need to pay Two much mind, though, so he mostly ignored him.

“Things got more serious. There were rumors that they were going to get married. We didn’t know for sure what that would mean for us, but most of us thought it made sense.

“Two didn’t like it at all. He’d go off on anyone saying anything about it. He was real worried. I thought it was just cause he didn’t like him and didn’t want him to be our Master officially, but I think he saw something the rest of us didn’t.

“The man was always real deferent, never acted anything but humble, but we were taking orders from him before too long. Not so unusual for a slave, but it wasn’t just us. Servants, guards, even nobles listened to him. No one thought anything of it, we figured he was important to Her Majesty, he oughta be important to us. Except looking back, there was more than once where he sort of…went around her wishes. Made decisions that oughta be hers.

“He was really good at playing ignorant when he overstepped, and even better at apologizing, but now I think it was all an act. Didn’t see it then, though. He had a way of making you want to be on his side.

“One day, Two gets summoned to a private audience, very suddenly. We do this all the time, now, but it _never_ happened then. We barely ever got a chance to look at her, let alone speak one on one. Two didn’t seem scared, but when he left I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again.

“He was gone a long time. When he came back that night, he acted sourer than usual. He wouldn’t tell me anything except that he had orders, and only he could follow them. I wanted to help but he told me she’d forbidden it, and that was that.”

Three paused to clear his throat. When he spoke again, his voice had gotten quieter.

“A few days after that, the paramour’s on the road to somewhere, and he doesn’t come back. They found him dead. Slashed throat. Said he was got by bandits. And Two showed up same day with fresh wounds on his face and looking like hell.

“The whole country mourned for a week, Her Majesty most of all. And then..things went back to how they were before. Almost like he’d never been there.”

Six’s mouth was hanging open. Eight had never seen him speechless.

“She took me and Two into service after that, Four not long after. We got new names and we knew why — didn’t want us getting any ideas. And we knew why there wasn’t a One, too, and why there wouldn’t ever be.”

He finished, and it was dead quiet for a moment. Six was still hanging slack-jawed and Eight felt like his mind was spinning 100 miles an hour.

“Holy _fuck,_ man,” said Six. “That is so much cooler than I thought it would be. And Two… _damn_. I get why Mistress keeps him.”

Six wasn’t going to piece it together, and it was possible Three didn’t know either, but Eight understood something instantly. Two wasn’t just a bed slave; he was a spy. That’s why the people who crossed him were punished. That’s why the guards were wary of him. He was rooting out traitors.

Eight vowed silently to never, ever cross him.

“Alright,” said Three. “You promised never to speak of it again, and I expect that to begin as soon as I go inside. Not to Seven, not to each other, not to me. Not even to yourself.”

Six nodded. He looked giddy, but for once Eight actually believed he could shut his mouth. “Not a word. Not ever.”

“And don’t go acting different around Two, either. If he gets pissed at me I’m going to have to rough him up again, and I don’t want to do that.”

Three turned back toward the door. Eight lay all the way down, prickled by the short, rough grass. He stared into the sky, head swimming. Then the door clicked shut behind Three, and he knew that was the last he’d ever hear of it.


End file.
